Blinded
by snapsandprongsforever
Summary: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single wizard in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. The entire countryside thinks Lily Evans is idealistic wanting to marry for love and wanting more freedom as a witch. In enters James Potter, a man with 10,000 Galleons a year, from the upper echelons of wizarding society. A Pride & Prejudice AU no one asked for.
1. Can't Stop Now

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single wizard in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. In truth, though Mr. James Potter acknowledged the veracity of this statement, his own mind was far from the comforts of matrimony. He was rather occupied at the moment between strains at the Ministry and the upcoming prospect of spending some time in the countryside, leaving him wavering somewhere between apprehension and anticipation. Anticipation for the peace and quiet; apprehension for the ruckus that their arrival would surely cause.

For James Potter, creating a stir was a regular occurrence, though it was one that he had never become accustomed to. Coming from the upper echelons of wizarding society and at the height of his career, he was one of the most eligible bachelors that London, nay England, had to offer. It was quite a nuisance, and he had thought once or twice to just marry and be done with it so that he could have some semblance of peace in his life, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Convenience be damned, his mother had instilled in him the belief that marriage should come from some sort of affection or attachment, not the need for quiet evenings and fear of constantly replacing his overly-used dancing shoes.

"Mr. Potter?" The butler's voice interrupted the gentleman's reverie.

"Yes, Mr. Fenwick?"

"Mr. Black is outside with the carriage, ready for departure at your leisure."

"Would he like to take tea before we leave?" James asked, standing and gathering his coat and walking stick.

"I believe he has already taken his, sir. He is eager to see the countryside." James noted his butler's subtle rebuke of Sirius' impatience with a private smile.

"Well then, I do not dare stand in his way."

Mr. Fenwick nodded sharply. "Your things are already packed and loaded, and the thestrals are ready and waiting."

Mr. James Potter nodded his thanks and made his way down the elaborate staircase to the front hall, where his housekeeper, Mrs. Bates, was waiting to see him off. "Don't burn the house down while I'm gone," he teased her.

"Of course not, Mr. Potter. And if I may say so, please do not get yourself into too much trouble."

"I would never dream of it Mrs. Bates, but I cannot vouch for Mr. Black." They shared a smile, almost coconspirators in the light-hearted mocking of Mr. Black before James put his took his hat off to the observing staff and stepped out into the London fog. He found said gentleman waiting in the carriage as promised, almost bouncing with childlike excitement. The carriage was enlarged for their comfort, and padded with charmed pillows. The thestrals were highly bred, and known for their speed. James would prefer a broomstick or even Floo Powder, but that was for wizards that couldn't afford to keep thestrals in their stables. It was one of the trappings of wizarding nobility that chafed at him.

"James Potter! Are you ready to face the wilderness of country life?"

James grinned, "Perhaps not quite so ready as you. But either way I am happy to put London behind us." He settled himself in the seat opposite Black and thudded his walking stick on the floor, setting the carriage in motion. "And we are off!"

James Potter was not to know what was in store, and had he known it is uncertain whether he would have even set out on that journey. He may have directed Mr. Black to pick a completely different part of the countryside to retire to and there would have been no story to tell. But as it were James had not been to a fortune teller, and he found Divination skills to be rather nonsensical, so he did set off to Cokesworth without hesitation, never to return the same man.

* * *

Lily Evans was informed of James Potter's arrival to the sleepy countryside town of Cokesworth almost immediately due to her mother. Mrs. Evans made it her business to be informed on all of the latest happenings in order to be better prepared in facing them. Though, to be fair, she did not hear a word about James Potter; his arrival was not trumpeted. Instead, the connection was a one gentleman named Sirius Black.

"Why, have you heard?" Lily's mother, Mrs. Evans, exclaimed at Mr. Evans. Lily looked up from her book as her mother rushed into the room, baskets overflowing from her short trip to town and cheeks flushed with excitement. Mrs. Evans was a woman that many would dismiss offhand, though she made it her job not to be dismissed easily. Her husband, Mr. Evans, was much more sedate than she, and had long learned that there was no way to stall or distract his wife when she had that gleam in her eye.

"No, my dear, we haven't heard anything. Though I am sure that we will soon have the pleasure as you will set us straight." Lily was the only one who understood the dry bent to his tone, and ducked her head down to hide her smile.

"Why there is a Mr. Black arrived from London. He will let Diagon Park. It was always so sad to see that magnificent house standing empty. I was always saying to myself – who will come and set this place aright? And here he comes, a Mr. Black with five thousand a year."

Lily made a face. She was not much surprised that her mother already knew the value of this gentleman, and she had an inkling of where this conversation was going. She started inching her way to the door. "Do you perchance know if he is married or single?" Mr. Evans asked, affecting an air of seriousness. He knew from over twenty years of similar conversations with his wife that this was the natural following question to ascertain after the gentleman's purse.

Mrs. Evans scoffed. "Of course I know! It was the first think I asked Mrs. Thomas when she told me. He is single! At five thousand pounds, you have to worry if there's something wrong with him. Especially with a last name like Black. But won't this be a wonderful opportunity for our girls!"

"Yes, perhaps he could teach them some spells that they do not know yet," her father said, returning to his book, presuming the conversation concluded.

"Why, Mr. Evans! How could you be so daft! It is an opportunity for marriage, not spellwork. Mr. Black _must_ marry one of them."

"Indeed. With five thousand a year it wouldn't matter what he can do with his wand," Mr. Evans answered coyly. Lily had to stifle a laugh.

"I should think not. Besides you know what this means – you must go visit him. For you know that we may not visit until you do."

On that note, it was settled that a certain Mr. Black would become the husband of one of the Evans' daughters. Far be it from anyone's mind that it was unlikely that Mr. Black would not feel passionately about an unknown witch in the backwaters of English society. In truth, there were many things that were set against them, but high society had not yet met Mrs. Evans, who longed to see her duty as mother done and her future secured. And it certainly would not hurt that she would be able to say that her daughter had married to a gentleman with five thousand Galleons a year to anyone she pleased.

The Evans family was small, and on the outer fringes of respectable wizarding society due to the fact that they had only very recently entered it. Wizarding society, much like Muggle society, was strictly delineated by rules that were tied to family history. Therefore, any attempt for Evans family to rise in ranks would be slow and laborious. Their position now as the highest wizarding gentry of the area had been three generations of correct connections and painstaking planning on the part of domineering wizarding parents with their eyes set on bettering their fortunes. Mr. Evans had married quite considerably up, enhancing his magical status considerably. This was only because he was seen as Mrs. Evans' last hope by her family, but of course, no one said anything to that affect. It was understood. Mr. Evans was not particularly concerned about social mobility, to the dismay of his parents and his wife. So long as he had a library, and some peace and quiet, he was content. Even after they had three daughters, Mr. Evans was never as concerned about their fortunes as Mrs. Evans, whose concern was only amplified as Mr. Evans' diminished.

Lily Evans was aware of the tension that surrounded her families' existence in the wizarding world. She had not been allowed to attend Hogwarts, though women were not allowed to go at the time Pureblood or no. Her parents had to hire a governess to teach them the necessary skills to pass by in magical society. Lily felt this loss keenly and worked diligently to accomplish advanced magic, surpassing her sisters in ability due to a mix of talent and interest. This was not, as her mother had assumed, due to her eagerness to marry well; it was due to her own interest in the subject matter. Lily was fascinated by this society that she had been allowed to enter, and she devoured all of the information she could. She was mortified of embarrassing herself by appearing to be lesser able to do magic.

Perhaps due to this, Lily differed from her mother in several significant ways that were immediately clear to anyone besides Mrs. Evans herself, but their most stark difference was along the theme of marriage. It is not uncommon for mothers and daughters to disagree on that subject; it has always happened, and most likely always will. Mrs. Evans was brought up in a world where marrying well was impressed on her from a young age. That was a young witch's purpose and her end, her magical ability was not nurtured or developed in the same way as a man's. After all, once she had her husband and her household of servants, she would not need to perform magic. Lily was of quite a different mind. She had been exposed to the same societal mindset, but perhaps her hard-earned dexterity with magic or one too many novels had filled her mind with different ideas. Women were made free by the use of magic. In wizarding society, women had equal access to magical powers as men did, unlike Muggle society. So Lily did not understand why a witch had to resign herself to the same fate as a Muggle woman. She would rather be a spinster with impeccable Healing credentials than the trophy wife of some wizarding boor. She therefore had resolved that Lily Evans would not marry unless the utmost of causes compelled her to do so: love. She did not trumpet this around, however. Lily Eavns was a smart witch, and she kept her wits about her. Making such a declaration publicly would only increase her difficulties in reaching her objective, and therefore she confided only in her diary, her close sister Marlene, and her dearest friend Alice.

The auspicious evening of the dance approached, and with it heightened speculations in the Evans' household of what an evening with such a rich gentleman would entail, and how to best catch his attention. This from Petunia, encouraged by their mother. Lily and Marlene were finding more entertainment in observing the spectacle than in participating in it. Regardless of their distance from it, they were nonetheless affected by the contagious excitement. After all, balls were dazzling social events, and could not come often enough for ladies in the countryside, who were not often offered entertainment. The current issue that was most pressing in the household was which dress gowns Petunia was to wear. As the youngest, it was only natural that Marlene and Lily had precedence in choosing their dress robes, but she matched their claims of seniority with her own passion to catch the rich gentleman that neither Marlene nor Lily could compete with. This placed Mrs. Evans in a regrettable situation. Petunia had fervor, but Marlene was most clearly the obvious choice for the gentleman. She was the most beautiful, and had the sweetest disposition. Not to mention that she was the oldest, and therefore the most in need of a match. Once this favorable match was made, it would open up avenues for further advantageous marriages. In the end, Mrs. Evans favored Marlene, and allowed her the disputed rose muslin dress robes. Lily was not fussed. With her striking coloring, rose would not be appropriate. She settled for a deep green that brought out her eyes and made her coiled auburn hair gleam in the candlelight.

As twilight fell, and the glow of the sun was leeching away from the horizon, the first stars winked into existence in the night sky. Lively music swelled from the small, but nonetheless quaint manor as gravel crunched under the carriage wheels. Though she would not admit it, Lily Evans felt a thrill of excitement at the prospect of a ball, and of seeing her friend Mrs. Alice Prewett, at whose residence the ball was taking place. Ascending the stairs up to the oak doors that had been thrown open, Lily gave her cloak to one waiting attendants. In the spacious entrance hall, several fireplaces had various elegantly attired witches and wizards stepping on to the tiled floor. Several servants attended them, helping them shake the soot off their dress robes.

The Evans family was announced into the main hall, where the dance was in full sing. The orchestra balcony was filled with various instruments that were playing themselves harmoniously. The walls were lined with candles, and many candles floated lazily about the room to the spots where more light was needed. Glasses of wine and champagne were being brought around the room by some house elves, and other trays carried themselves, enchanted to drift towards those whose glasses were empty. The majority of the room was filled with dancing pairs who were enjoying the magically enlarged area in order to allow dances with even the most intricate patterns. Lily felt a grin spread across her face as her eyes took in the scene, and she felt her own happiness be swept into the atmosphere.

Marlene joined her. "Do you think that he is here yet?" There could be no doubt to whom she was referencing.

"If he were, there would be a huge crowd surrounding him. I don't see such a crowd so I fear we may have to continue our lengthy wait," Lily said, half smiling.

"In that case, we better get a dance or two in. Time passes much more quickly when you're on the arm of a charming gentleman." Marlene quipped, joining Lily in scanning the room.

"You go ahead, Marlene. I am going to try and find Alice." Marlene nodded before being led off by Mr. Catermole for a quadrille.

Lily was long in finding Alice, who was no doubt held up by the duties of hostess along with her mother. When she finally found her, they only managed to exchange a few pleasantries before Marlene joined them once ore.

Alice was not a stunning beauty, something Mrs. Evans would point out often enough in their household. She was on the older side of unmarried women, but her eyes sparkled with life and she had a charming disposition. Her brown hair was twisted up with a few strands framing her heart-shaped face. Freckles smattered across her face and when she smiled, she was transformed. Fortunately for her, she smiled often and without reserve. This was perhaps what Mrs. Evans meant by not being a stunning beauty. Women who smiled too much were not to be trusted.

Marlene, on the other hand, was inarguably and classically beautiful. Her golden curls were artfully arranged on her head, though it could be a mess and would not detract from her electric blue eyes and strong profile. Tonight she looked particularly well, the dancing and the rose-colored robes bringing a becoming flush to her cheeks, eyes sparkling with merriment.

"If every man is not in love with you by the end of the night, then I'm no judge of beauty," Lily commented, nudging her sister's shoulder. Alice laughed along with Marlene.

"Or of men I gather." Marlene said with a smile.

"No. In all honesty they are too easy to judge. They are all arrogant toerags in my experience. Just looking for a good wife to marry and then forget once their dowry lines their pockets."

"Careful, Lily. Someday someone with catch your eye and you will eat your words." Marlene said, quite suddenly becoming serious for a moment before turning to Alice. "You've met this Mr. Black, then?"

Alice nodded, and was about to speak when the music stopped. The three of them looked up, and saw that three people had entered at the far end of the room. Lily hadn't heard their entrance being called, but she knew it must be Mr. Black and his party. There were two men, standing side by side. One had long inky hair tied back with a ribbon, animated brown eyes and an aristocratic forehead. The other had spectacles, and short but mussed dark hair, and where his partner was more relaxed, he seemed to be more reserved. He was taller than the first gentleman, and had a strong jaw. With them was a woman with striking coloring. Pale skin and raven-wing hair, shockingly blue eyes, and an air that suggested she was used to being the center of attention. Her cerulean eyes scanned the room with a faint air of disinterestedness.

They walked from one side of the room to the other, as was customary, their footsteps unnaturally loud in the stillness of the room. It seemed that no one dared breathe in the presence of such high social status and power. Lily, Marlene, and Alice curtseyed as they passed, but under her eyelashes, Lily met the eyes of the reserved wizard. They were a surprisingly soft shade of hazel, the candlelight playing at the colors of its depths. But just as quickly as their eyes connected, his cut away quickly, leaving Lily feeling slightly unsettled. Once they reached the other end of the room, the music slowly started back up again, and the whispers seemed more intense than usual.

"Which gentleman was Mr. Black?" Marlene questioned, who seemed to find her voice more quickly than Lily.

"The man in the middle, with the longer hair. The woman is his sister, Miss. Regalia Black."

"And the man with the quizzical brow?" Lily interjected.

"That is his dear friend Mr. Potter. He is quite the catch."

"He looks miserable, poor soul."

'Miserable he may be, but poor he most certainly is not."

"How much?" This from Marlene. Lily shot her a look, but Marlene just shrugged, and sent her a returning defensive glare.

"Ten thousand a year, and he owns half of Godric's Hollow. He's a direct descendant."

"The miserable half?" Lily shot back, and their enjoyment at this caricature of Mr. Potter was interrupted by Mrs. Evans' arrival.

"Come, we have to meet him. Remember, Marlene, smile but not too much. Use your eyelashes, and you will have him hooked. You are the prettiest girl here

"Mother, I am not going to hook him like he's some fish. I will be perfectly polite, but that is it."

Their mother sighed. "Very well." She still pinched Marlene's cheeks to make them appear pink before they made way towards the imposing trio, where Mr. Evans and Petunia were waiting.

Alice's father, Mr. Prewett was already there, having taken his job as host with an efficient air, introducing all of the country gentry to the newcomers. He gave them a small smile. "Mr. Black, you remember my daughter, Miss Alice Prewett. And these are the Evans'. Mrs. Evans, Miss Marlene Evans, Miss Lily, and Miss Petunia." Each of the ladies in question curtsied at their name.

"It is such a delight to meet you Mr. Black," Mrs. Evans spoke for them.

"And this is Mr. Potter, of Derbyshire." Mr. Prewett added. Mr. Potter nodded, but didn't appear inclined to engage any of them in conversation.

The Evan's moved along after the introduction, though Petunia spent much of the evening gazing in their direction. Mr. Black was easy-going and charming. He had the entire company eating out of his hand by the end of the night. He spoke often, listened more, and danced every dance. At the beginning of the evening, however, Mr. Potter was the favored gentleman. This was in large part due to the knowledge of the whole party within moments of his entrance of his immense wealth and social stature. There was also the matter of his tall stature and noble features. Where Mr. Black's handsomeness was one that encouraged warmth and proximity, Mr. James Potter's looks were of the kind that were off-putting and intimidating. Despite this, women are generally more intrigued by the latter, for it is human nature to long for what one cannot have. Mr. Potter may have been the star of the evening had his bad temperament not proved that impossible. He was too reserved, too proud, and spent most of the evening brooding on the fringes of the room. He danced but two dances, one with Mrs. PREWETT and the other with Miss Black, despite the fact that there were several women who had to sit out dances.

One of those occasions, it was Lily who had to sit out a dance, and though she intended in no way eavesdrop, MR. Black and Mr. Potter were holding conference too close for Lily to not hear them, though they clearly thought they were not in danger of being overheard.

"What a splendid evening, wouldn't you say James? I say, you better lighten up. Some people are noticing that you aren't particularly excited to be here." Lily ignored the strange feeling that hearing Mr. Potter's first name evoked. It was odd to think of being so familiar with a gentleman that reserved.

"Sirius, you know as well as I that it is difficult for me to dance with those I am not well-acquainted with. Conversation doesn't come as easily to me as it does to you." Mr. Potter's voice was low, grave, and surprisingly lovely. It was a shame that he did not use it more often, Lily found herself thinking.

"Just one dance."

"You're dancing with the prettiest woman in the room."

"Well, what do you expect? Miss Evans truly is a vision, and she is witty besides. But her younger sister is also quite handsome and she is sitting just behind you."

Lily valiantly tried to appear as if she were not listening. She could feel Mr. Potter's eyes on her. She felt heat pooling in her cheeks, and very stubbornly avoided looking in their direction. "She is pretty enough, but not handsome enough to tempt me. Go enjoy Miss Evans. I am going to get some fresh air outside."

Lily's eyes stung, but after a moment it passed, and she was able to see the incident with humor. As if she even wanted to dance with such a gentleman. He had most likely never experienced human emotion in his life. Upon further reflection, she was glad to have avoided half an hour in his company.

The evening passed pleasantly enough. There was no shortage of food, drink, or good music. Marlene danced with Mr. Black twice, which was enough for Mrs. Evans to get her hopes up and for the whole neighborhood to speculate. Marlene seemed pleased in her own quieter way, and Lily found herself quite content at the end of the evening. And as she listened to Marlene's timid admiration for Mr. Black as they readied for bed, she smiled to herself. Perhaps Mrs. Evans wasn't so far off.


	2. Girls Like You

Though it surprised many, between Potter and Black was a very firm and reciprocal friendship. It was true that their temperaments differed in many ways. Where Black became the center of social circles, Potter preferred the sidelines, a wallflower of sorts. Black aimed to charm and please anyone who crossed his path. Potter himself had charm and social charisma but chose to use it infrequently. Though Black was not far behind, in intelligence Potter was superior due to his cleverness. Where Potter was reserved, Black was warm. Where Black was sociable, Potter was taciturn. Black preferred to see where life brought him; Potter functioned through strict routines, his internal clock without fault. Black was the first to pick up his wand for the simplest task, James used his magic often, but when given the option to do something the magic or Muggle way, he tended toward Muggle ways. His father instilled the value of hard work in him, and he felt that there was a certain dignity that came through the hard work.

But because of this difference in tempers, they enjoyed spending time with one another. They did not step on each other's toes. Black's charisma, charm, and warmth all endeared him to Potter. And Black had no higher regard of anyone's opinion than that of Mr. Potter, to whom he often went for counsel. In fact, Potter had impeccable judgement, though he was also haughty, reserved, and facetious. His manners, though well bred, were off-putting if one were unaccustomed to them. But as his family was old and respected, he was well within his rights to be occasionally too proud.

In order to gain a fuller understanding of these two men and the paradox of their temperaments, one need look no further than what they thought of the Cokesworth assembly in which they had recently appeared. Black could swear that this was the friendliest and prettiest array of women that he had ever seen. He exclaimed over the kindness of the assembly, the food, the dancing, the music, whatever his mind could seize upon. "It was like meeting old friends with open arms, that is how welcoming they were," he sighed. There were no compliments high enough for Miss Evans, who was perfection in the shape of a woman, someone who was warm, charming, danced well, and always knew what to say.

Potter, on the other hand, was far from charmed. In his opinion, the people who were gathered at the assembly were altogether shallow, too dazzled by the old family lines that both gentlemen possessed to be interesting. He felt they had little class and less tact, falling over themselves to push their daughters towards them and agree with everything that they said. Though he did have to agree that Miss Marlene Evans was a lovely woman, he nonetheless felt that she was perhaps too sweet. He kept his own thoughts of ulterior motives to himself, for Sirius was so busy courting women that he would soon forget her and move on to the next pretty face. This is what he assured himself after the fourth rapture of the morning that regarded Miss Evans. He hoped that Sirius would move on quickly, for his attachment was fast getting in the way of James' business. As he headed to bed, he closed his eyes and prayed that his visit would run its course without further complications.

* * *

After a general assembly, especially after brushing with the company of such high circles of England, it was necessary to any respectable woman to have tea the next morning and analyze the evening in detail. As there was little else to do in the quaint and quiet town of Cokesworth, and she supposed herself to be a respectable woman, Lily Evans found herself in her drawing room at tea with the Prewett family, who had hosted the assembly the previous night.

"You began the night splendidly, my dear! You had the first dance with Mr. Black!" Miss Evans said to Miss Alice Prewett, unaware of the slight blush that came across the blonde's features.

"This is true, Miss Evans. But I believe he preferred the second dance," Alice commented mischievously, her eyes cutting towards Marlene.

Miss Evans rose to the bait immediately. "Why, you mean the one that he danced with Marlene! Well, he did dance with her _twice_ , which makes one think that he must admire her. In fact, I believe I heard him saying to Mr. Robinson that there were a great many beautiful ladies at the assembly, and when Mr. Robinson asked him who he thought was the prettiest, he said it was my dear Marlene without even a moment of hesitation."

"It may be that you overheard the most interesting conversation, Miss Evans, for his friend's conversations are not worth listening to," Alice said, with feeling. She was, of course, referencing the comments that Mr. Potter made about Lily the previous evening. "Poor Lily! To be just tolerable!"

"I ask you not to put too much vexation in my dear Lily's head about the matter. He is such a disagreeable man that it would be a great misfortune to be liked by him." Mrs. Evans stated, reheating her tea with her wand, for it had gotten rather cold during her recounting of the evening.

"Miss Black told me that Mr. Potter never speaks much unless among his intimate acquaintances. With them he is remarkably agreeable." Miss Marlene Evans broke in, always unable to hear a bad word about anyone else, no matter how disagreeable the person in question may be.

"Of course she will say that. She probably fancies an attachment between them. Either way, I would not dance with him if I were Lily." Mrs. Evans replied huffily.

"I doubt such an occasion will present itself. I could more easily forgive his pride if it hadn't wounded mine. Besides Marlene, it always easy to be agreeable with those you like. It is much more difficult to be agreeable to everyone you meet," Lily retorted, eager to put the incident behind her.

As the visit wound down and the Prewetts took their leave, Lily found herself drifting towards the large windows of the parlor, looking upon the verdant paths. She felt that it had been too long since she had had some fresh air, and set her mind to a walk. She couldn't bear the thought of another person looking at her and trying to guess how Potter's offhand remark had caused her inner turmoil.

Her footsteps led her, for she knew not where she desired to go. Lily found herself under the shade of a birch tree by a large pond on her family's property. The shade was welcome after the stifling air in the house and the timid heat of the late morning. Lily's mind was calm, almost identical to the glassy surface of the water she gazed upon. She found that spending time out of doors always restored her to good humor and gave her a sense of understanding. She understood her own place in the world. Here she was neither magic nor muggle, woman nor man. She was just a being that existed alongside other beings in the rich tapestry of life.

Still, she found her mind wandering to the events of the night before. What she had said before was true. She did not overmuch care for James Potter, who seemed to think that people should care for him overmuch. Though his mien was pleasant, and there were times that she suspected that his distaste for social occasions originated from timidity or circumspection, she still found herself more vexed at him than she should be. It is true that Lily Evans often did not take such things seriously, certainly less seriously than her mother. She felt what she said before was an apt reason for her reluctance to let the matter go. If it was anyone else's pride that was hurt by Potter's brutal honesty, she would not have given his remark a second thought because it was to be expected by someone who was used to having everything handed to him on a silver platter. But it had been her that had her pride wounded. And she was finding it hard to forget.

She pulled out her wand and cleaned a rock next to the water that she could sit on. She leaned her head back against the tree, twirling her wand pensively. She picked a daisy, and on impulse she turned it cherry red. James Potter was an arrogant and pompous man who was used to getting his way. And that was that. Despite this rather definitive statement on the part of Lily, she felt something deep inside her that made her think she had not seen the last of Mr. Potter.

* * *

James was not having a good day. His arrival at Diagon Park had been made with the due amount of chaos and good cheer that it warranted. Mr. Black had been in residence for several days, and was taking admirably to being a master of a country house. He was there with his sister Regalia, and her fiancée, a Mr. Remus Lupin. Mr. Lupin was another close companion to both Mr. Black and Mr. Potter. He was a rather thin man, eager to be liked, but incredibly compassionate and apt at reading social situations, which made him invaluable. He was frequently ill, and had been unable to attend the assembly the other night due to a recent spate of sickness. He had met Miss Regalia Black when visiting Mr. Black's family during the summer holidays from Hogwarts. There had been a natural connection from the start that had come as a surprise to everyone due to their different lifestyles, but they seemed to be relatively happy. It had been quite an uproar when they read the bans for, though Lupin came from a decent family, they had come on hard times and he had little to offer financially. Despite this, they made a good match. They were both incredibly talented at reading people, though they often did so for different reasons and with different outcomes.

Alas James' bad day had nothing to do with Remus Lupin or Regalia Black. It had to do with the fact that he was unable to follow his routine here. In London, the schedule was simple: awake with the dawn, bathe, break his fast with a simple meal of bread and cheese and a strong coffee, take care of business in the morning, and save the afternoon for social events that required his attention. In Derbyshire it was similar, though his afternoons were often more occupied by horseback riding and simpler pleasures than London had to offer.

Here at Diagon Park, James had attempted to follow his same routine, but none of his hosts were as regimented as he. This was not necessarily an evil, but it was a close call when it meant that James did not get his morning coffee. This was a circumstance that had happened but once in Mr. Potter's household, and afterward became a mistake had never again been repeated. With the little amount that James slept, it was necessary that a strong coffee was had in the morning or he was out of sorts all day. He had ended up going to the kitchen and using his wand to boil some water. Unfortunately, James' knowledge of household spells was limited; it wasn't necessary for someone of his station. Most of his education had been learning to showcase his skills in order to cement his status in magic society. Household spells were seen as lesser, cheaper magic.

Because of this, his coffee was not as strong as he was accustomed to, and as a consequence the entire household was thrown off balance, for when James retired to the library for his business, he was left scattered sheaves of parchment with ink only halfway dried. This caused ink stains, notoriously difficult to remove even with magic. Besides this inconvenience to the house elves, James had to restart all of his business dealings which left him in a foul mood, the silver lining of which could only be found in that his presence could be excused from the social calls that came in at an alarming rate that afternoon. He eventually finished his business, and even a letter to his own sister could not keep him occupied long enough to claim business as the motivation for his lackluster social appearance. He therefore summoned his courage, steeled his backbone for mindless and inane chatter, and headed to the drawing room, where the Blacks had been occupied almost all afternoon with receiving guests wishing to welcome them to Cokesworth now that they had been introduced.

When James arrived, there were no visitors; there was a brief interlude of peace in which the Blacks felt it necessary to engage in social analysis of the previous encounters. James' mind drifted, skittering over the sunlit wooden floors and the charmed clocks that displayed not only the time, but the weather, star alignments, and personal horoscopes for that day. Lupin was an astrology aficionado, and he had many knick knacks that he brought with him as he travelled in order to be better prepared for the future. Mr. Lupin was many things, but he was foremost a planner. Regardless, James' horoscope did not look too pleasant.

His attention was brought back to the general conversation as the Evans family became once again a topic of discussion, thanks to Remus Lupin's expression of regret that he had not been able to meet them and form an opinion of them. "Everyone else has quite a solid position, and it seems to me quite bizarre that there are so many conflicting reports. It puzzles me, but I must say it does pique my interest."

"Let the curiosity stop there, dear," Regalia hurried to answer. "They are a sight to behold to be sure. There is no family the likes of them in London, and for that reason at first sight they are something to behold. But the charm wears off rather quickly."

James privately agreed with her. He had not exchanged much more than a few words with them, yet the behavior of the mother and the youngest daughter especially had been ghastly. He couldn't admit that without offending Sirius, however. And Sirius did immediately spring to the defense of the Evans family. "You are just biased because London is full of stuffed up poppycocks who are most worried about what they are wearing and other ways to show off how much money they have. At least the Evans family is friendly, and they are among the highest bred gentry in the area."

"Well, that doesn't mean much. They wouldn't be welcome in our same circles in London."

"We aren't in London anymore, Regalia, and I'll thank you to stop acting as if we were," Sirius snapped, his good humor beginning to fade in the face of stark commentary on the part of Regalia.

"Mr. Potter agrees with me, after all he did say that Miss Lily was not that handsome, though she is rumored to be one of the loveliest women in Cokesworth. She is said to be quite sought after, Merlin knows why," Regalia fought back. James was not prepared to enter into this quarrel, which seemed to have more to do with a disagreement between family members than parlor talk. And he certainly did not appreciate that Regalia had just thrown him into the midst of it.

Just then the butler appeared, and announced that guests that had just arrived. "A Mrs. Evans, a Miss Evans, a Miss Evans, and a Miss Evans, sir."

James, Sirius, and Remus stood as the ladies entered, and bowed their heads as they curtsied.

"May I present my brother-in-law, Mr. Remus Lupin. Unfortunately he was too ill to attend the assembly, but he was of course most eager to make your acquaintance." Sirius said with an expansive gesture towards Lupin, taking the role of host head on, his smile blinding. Remus inclined his head at this introduction, and opened his mouth as if to speak, but to his surprise, was cut off.

"The pleasure is all ours, Mr. Lupin. What a delight it is to meet more of your family, Mr. Black," Mrs. Evans simpered, and James could tell that they were in for a lengthy visit. The Evans women settled themselves around the parlor, and Mrs. Evans began to speak to Miss Regalia. James tuned it out in favor of joining the conversation between Sirius, Miss Evans, and Miss Lily.

Occupied in observing Mr. Black's attentions to her sister, Lily (for that was what he had taken calling her in his head, despite the impropriety) was far from suspecting that she was herself fast becoming an object of some interest to James. James was aware that he had called Miss Lily only tolerably handsome, and at that moment he had scarcely allowed himself that. Now he observed her, looking again for some fault to criticize. But is seemed that the moment that he had declared to himself and to his friends that she was simply tolerable, he began to find that her face was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her green eyes. To this discovery followed other equally mortifying, such as the way that the sunlight caught her hair, the column of throat, her hands resting gracefully on her knee as she quietly took in the scene before her. In spite of his earlier assertions to the effect that her manners were not those of the fashionable world, he was caught by their easy playfulness. Of this, Miss Lily was perfectly unaware; to her he was only the man who made himself agreeable nowhere, and who had not thought her handsome enough to dance with.

James found himself inexplicably wishing to know more of her, a fact that he easily attributed to lack of coffee and lack of routine. It was due to the lack of those things only that James felt himself drawn to that particular conversation, he reasoned with himself. If you had asked James later what the conversation had revolved around, he would have been quite unable to recall, but he felt that the lightness of Lily's voice and the slight blush on her cheeks were forever imprinted on his soul.

The Evans excused themselves noisily after Miss Petunia's pointed questions after a ball at Diagon Park, for a private ball is always much better than a public ball. Sirius acquiesced in some way, James couldn't say. Soon they were gone, and James felt a bit at a loss as to what to do next. He opened his book, hoping that the words on the page would ground him but he was unable to absorb any of the information from it, the words swimming before him before being replaced by images of Lily's dancing eyes and playful grin.

"I can guess what you are thinking," Miss Regalia interrupted his sweet thoughts like cold water to the face. "You are thinking about how insupportable it would be to pass so many afternoons in this manner – in such society. I agree with you entirely. Throughout the entire visit, I was just praying to Agrippa that it would be over. The insipidity and the noise; the nothingness and yet the self-importance of these people."

"I'm afraid that your conjecture is completely wrong, Miss Black. My mind was much more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a fine pair of eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow."

Miss Black was left at a loss for words as James left the room in a hurry to go on a much needed horse ride through the forest. He was in the need for a respite from spying eyes, and most especially from those forest-green eyes that for some unthinkable reason continued to take up a large part of his mind.


	3. Slow Cinnamon Summer

**A/N:** The chapter title from the song Cinnamon by Jome, which is a surprisingly fitting song for this fic. Reviews are like hot cups of coffee - they keep me going when it gets rough!

* * *

Lily awoke the next day to sunlight streaming through her windows, and an inexplicably good mood. She planned on starting her new novel today, and was going to secretly practice some magic by offering to do the laundering of clothes. Although Lily detested the idea that women should only learn household spells, they were also the easiest to practice as there always seemed to be some sort of task that could be accomplished more easily than magic. It was much more likely that she would have to clear away dust than deal with splinching in her own day-to-day life. Lily dressed and descended into the dining room to break her fast, only to find her whole family already there in varying modes of dress and degrees of tiredness. Lily took her seat next to Marlene and was just beginning to eat her toast when an owl swooped into the kitchen and dropped a letter directly into Marlene's lap. For a moment the room stilled.

"Well?" Mrs. Evans asked, her voice unnaturally loud at this early hour and uncommon quiet.

Marlene hurried to open the letter, the parchment crackling as she unfolded it. "It's from Diagon Park," she stated, her own voice slightly incredulous. "Miss Black asks me to come dine with her this evening." She paused, her eyes skimming the remainder of the letter, and her shoulders slumped imperceptibly. "Mr. Black and Mr. Potter will be dining out, with the recently arrived regiments in town."

"Regiments? There are officers in town?" Mrs. Evans asked, momentarily forgetting the importance of Mr. Black for her daughters fortune.

"Mother! We must go into town and investigate soon! How I love officers in their maroon robes and with all their buckles," Petunia sighed, more to herself than anyone else.

"Mother, can I use the carriage to go to Diagon Park then?" Marlene asked, trying to redirect the topic of conversation in order to answer the letter in good time. The owl was well-behaved, but reminded Lily slightly of the London society quartet, puffed up and observing the scene with haughty eyes.

"How could Mr. Black go and dine with the officers this evening! How inconsiderate. That will not do!" Mrs. Evans huffed, a line appearing in her brow as she considered the matter before her. She glanced outside, before coming to a decision. "Your father will need the thestrals for the farm today. You will take the broomstick."

The entire family stared at Mrs. Evans as she smiled to herself. "But mother, it will rain today! You can't send Marlene on a broomstick! What will they think of her if she shows up on the doorstep sopping wet?" Lily said exasperatedly. Though she would not admit it, she was most worried about what Mr. Potter would think when Marlene arrived, broomstick in hand. He would either think they were destitute or insane to send Marlene on the broomstick when a thunderstorm was on the horizon. But it was decided, and that afternoon leave Marlene did on a broomstick, giving Lily one last conflicted look as the clouds on the horizon loomed closer. She had not been gone a quarter of an hour when the heavens were opened.

* * *

The Evans family was either desperately destitute, or more insane than he had perceived in his previous two encounters, James reflected privately as Miss Black relayed to him that Marlene had arrived on a broomstick in the middle of a thunderstorm, soaked through to the skin. She had of course taken ill, and had been sent to a bedroom upstairs for the night. Miss Evans had dispatched a letter to her family, and the Healer would be called tomorrow, who would hopefully have the necessary ingredients for a Cold Concoction or some other potion that would alleviate the illness.

James acknowledged that he had understood the situation and headed for bed, too exhausted to engage in further discussion. The evening had been pleasant enough, and though James knew it was his duty to be polite and friendly towards regiments fighting in the war, he found soldiers to be rather tiresome. As he took off his cravat, he reflected on Miss Evans' presence in this very house. He hoped that she would be speedily cured and that would be the end of the matter. He felt any further interaction with the Evans family not only tiresome but fraught with danger. First, there was Mr. Black's growing affection for Miss Evans, which someone would have to be blind not to see. And James hoped that Miss Evans was genuine in her affections, but it had been hard for him to discern thus far as to the depth of her feeling. Her family would obviously not be displeased at the match, what with Sirius' wealth.

He moved over to the washbasin, still lost in thought. His apprehension towards that family stretched farther than his own concerns about Sirius. Miss Lily's eyes floated before him as he stared at his own reflection in the washbasin. He shook himself, and splashed some water on his face. There was no point in pursuing that thought further. He collapsed into his bed, and was asleep almost instantly.

The following morning he awoke early, not feeling entirely refreshed, but rested enough that he could approach the day logically and rationally. Little did he know that mental fiber would be utterly required today. He went to break his fast, the household finally having caught up with his habits. Miss Black also had taken to joining him, though she hid yawns often enough that James understood she only rose to break her fast with him. He wasn't sure if she thought it was her duty as hostess, but he rather wished she was less attached to said duties. He was reflecting on letters of business that he would have to write that day when the butler stepped into the room and announced the presence of a one Miss Lily Evans. James could scarcely believe it, and hardly had enough time to collect himself before she entered. He snapped his mouth shut and stood hurriedly, bowing in her presence. It was yet early for her to be up and about, and it appeared that she had walked to Diagon Park, all three miles, for her cheeks were flushed and her eyes glowed from the intake of fresh air that early in the morning.

"Merlin's beard Miss Lily. Did you walk here?" Miss Black brought James back to himself, and he hastened to bring his mind to heel and his heartbeat, which was now quite apparent to him, to slow down.

"Yes, Miss Black," Miss Lily answered calmly, her eyes meeting Miss Black's, almost as a challenge.

"Heavens. You could have ridden a broomstick or a hippogriff. And we are connected to the Floo Network of course,. It was one of the first things we did when we first inhabited the house," Miss Black said, somewhat in the tone of a scolding mother.

"I am quite found of walking," Miss Lily said with a smile. A silence descended on the room. James tried valiantly to think of something clever to add to the conversation, but was unable to scrounge anything up in his mind that was of interest. After what seemed an eternity, Miss Lily took matters into her own hands. "How is my sister? I came to see her."

"Miss Evans is doing well. She is upstairs, and we sent for a Healer this morning. Surely he will brew up some potion that will speed up the healing process," James found himself answering. He was rewarded with a small smile, and without dallying she excused herself to go visit her sister. James watched her go and sank slowly into his chair, torn between inexplicable pleasure at seeing her and worry over her having walked this far by herself.

"Can you believe her petticoats? Six inches deep in mud!" Miss Black exclaimed. "Perhaps this misadventure has caused you to have less admiration for her eyes."

"Not at all," James answered before he realized it. "In fact, they were brightened by the exercise." Miss Black fell silent, not quite sure what else to say, but James was not disposed to converse with her through the fog of his own thoughts, and they dropped back into silence, each tending their own musings.

* * *

Lily Evans was delighted to be reunited with her sister, and even more relieved that Marlene did seem to be doing well enough, despite her less than restful night. They sat and chatted freely. No one disturbed them all morning. Lily still felt slightly uncomfortable at Diagon Park, and she could tell that Marlene felt a little uneasy as well. The Blacks had been more than welcoming, but it is always difficult to be sick away from home. The Healer stopped in around one o'clock and found that he was missing some ingredients necessary for the potion, and promised to return the following day with the potion already brewed. Miss Black privately remarked to Mr. Lupin that the Healer should have already had the potion made, but it couldn't be helped now. Marlene was to stay for another night.

At about three, Lily made to go, not wanting to intrude any more than she and Marlene already were, but Miss Black insisted that she also spend the night, an invitation which Lily accepted without hesitation. Marlene was still too ill to dine with the family, but Lily dined with them, attired in a deep purple gown that had been sent from home. The company was very pleasant at dinner, and all inquired profusely after Marlene, which warmed Lily's heart.

After dinner, Lily excused herself to sit with her sister until she drifted into sleep, and then rejoined the party in the drawing room. They were all playing cards, but Lily was sure that they were gambling too high for her, and chose instead to occupy herself with a book. She believed it would require less need for conversation and was also a more affordable diversion.

Mr. Darcy also held himself apart from the card game, scratching his quill rapidly along the parchment. Lily gathered that he was writing after his sister, as he had to pause every sentence or so as Miss Black asked after Miss Potter. Lily only wanted to read her book, but found herself drawn into conversation as they began to discuss Miss Potter's many accomplishments. It all began when Mr. Black, who had a pension for starting messy conversations, mentioned his own astonishment at the amount of accomplishment that ladies acquired. "I have never even heard of a lady, but I hear that she is accomplished!" He exclaimed.

"This is all too true, Mr. Black. The word is bandied about too often. If a lady can perform a simple Summoning Spell she is considered accomplished, but truly accomplishment runs deeper than that. I can only think of half a dozen or so women that I can truly call accomplished," Mr. Darcy said, having finally put aside his letter as if he understood that Miss Black would not mean to let him finish it that evening.

"Only half a dozen?" Lily said, her eyebrows raised. She was unsure if Mr. Potter was being serious. "You must comprehend a great deal in the idea of accomplishment then."

Mr. Potter met her eyes, inscrutable in the candlelight. "I do," he answered simply, but Lily felt that his eyes contained further answers to that question. She wondered what else he would say if he were not in the presence of Miss Black, who made a point of agreeing with everything that Mr. Potter said.

"Indeed," Miss Black chimed in. "Not only must a woman have a thorough and complete understanding of magic, she must also be skilled at music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages. Not to mention that she must have a certain something in her air and her manner of walking…" She trailed off and walked to the other side of the room to have a seat, clearly believing that she was one of those women that had a certain quality about her. Lily lowered her eyes, attempting to hide her smile and compose herself.

"And she must improve her mind with extensive reading," Mr. Potter state, his eyes flicking towards Lily's book. She shut it with a thud.

"I am no longer surprised at your only knowing six, Mr. Potter. I find myself wondering that you know any."

A look of surprise crossed Mr. Potter's face, and Lily felt it might have been the first genuine emotion that she had seen him express. "Are you so doubting of your own sex?"

"I never saw such a woman," Lily stated. She was met with many protestations, but eventually, Miss Black decided that they should play some pianoforte as entertainment, and of course, to display their levels of accomplishment. She asked Lily to go first, who did so pleasantly and with a smile. She was not "accomplished" at the pianoforte, but she enjoyed playing it. After she played a few pieces, Miss Black took over. Lily settled onto the couch to enjoy the music, but she could not help noticing how frequently Mr. Potter's hazel eyes were fixed on her. Lily, of course, could not suspect that she could be an object of admiration to so great a wizard; and yet that he should look at her because he disliked her seemed even more unlikely. Lily at last decided that he must be looking at her because there was something more wrong about her than any other person present. But as she cared little for his opinion, this did not pain her.

After playing some Italian songs, Miss Black switched to a lively Scottish tune. Mr. Potter drew close to Lily and interrupted her reverie. "Do you not feel the inclination, Miss Lily, to seize such an opportunity of dancing a reel?" Lily smiled, but did not answer. Mr. Potter, not one to back down once he had made a decision, repeated the question.

"Oh, I heard you the first time Mr. Potter. I was struggling with how I should reply. I know that you wished me to say 'Yes,' that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always take pleasure in overthrowing those kinds of schemes, and cheating a person of their premeditated contempt. I have therefore made up my mind to tell you that I do not wish to dance a reel at all – now despise me if you dare."

"Indeed, I do not dare," Mr. Potter replied softly. Lily was surprised at his gallantry; she had expected to offend him. But there was a sweetness and archness in Lily's manner that made it difficult for her to affront anybody, and Potter had never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. He really believed that if it weren't for the inferiority of her connections, he should be in some danger. The remainder of the evening passed without incident, and Lily retired early. The last image she had before she fell asleep was the absurd vision of Potter asking her to dance a Scottish reel. If she hadn't been absolutely sure that he was not, she would have thought that he was drunk, but she shoved the thought aside. His behavior was bewildering but not worth pondering.

* * *

It was both agony and hope to have her here, James concluded as he reigned in his horse. He had risen earlier than usual that morning, settled on the idea that it would be beneficial for his health to have a morning ride in order to clear his mind from the remaining tendrils of last night's pleasant haze. When he was alone, he reasoned that to be with her was absolutely folly, and he sought to avoid her presence. But when she was near him, he could not help but be drawn in. He was constantly aware of her presence and watched her between breaths, hoping to catch a lovely smile or a witty remark that made his hands clammy with sweat. He wished to dally in her presence indefinitely, observing the way the sunlight illuminated strands of her red hair so that they were burnished like coals in a fire. And when he took his leave of her, reality doused his fervor, like a bucket of cold water to the face.

Luckily the matter would soon be out of his hands. The Healer was to administer to potion today, and they would be gone at the latest tomorrow. It was for the best, he told himself. He couldn't let Miss Lily become aware of his admiration for her, for she would expect an offer of marriage to follow. She didn't seem empty headed, but with wizarding society so strictly delineated with rules about courting and with a matchmaking mother, it was better if no one was aware of his growing interest that he was trying desperately to tamp down. He resolved that he would limit their interactions, hoping that if that didn't diminish his attraction, it would at the very least conceal it.

His resolution started well. He broke his fast blissfully alone, Miss Black having taken to sleeping in later in order to dine with Miss Lily. He went upstairs and attended to business, but found himself freed earlier than usual and wandered to the library, where he would continue his book on the goblin rebellions. He had not been settled fifteen minutes when Miss Lily entered. She greeted him with a small nod, but was focused on her quest, wandering amongst the books, her hand lingering on certain tomes. It was interesting, James reflected, that she did not simply summon the book she desired, but tarried among the books and examined several before finding what she was looking for. She settled at the window seat on the opposite side of the room, and James watched the sunlight slant onto her. He felt he could count her eyelashes when they were thus illuminated. He caught himself and quickly threw himself back into his book, hoping that she had not noticed his stare.

He debated whether or not to leave the library with his book in order to avoid temptation, but if he left the library he would be risking alerting other members of the household that his business was over and he may have to endure others' presence. So he remained. And after a few moments adjusting to the rustling of other book pages, he was able to spend the morning pleasantly, the sun traversing from Miss Lily's window seat to his own armchair before Miss Lily closed her book with a sigh. She remained thus for several minutes, gazing out of the window, lost in thought. James did his best not to notice, and she soon returned the book to its place and left the library, closing the door with a small click.

Without realizing what he was doing, James found himself leaving his patch of sunshine and wandering to the shelves until he found her book. She had been reading the poetry of Sappho, a controversial witch from ancient times who had been the first to teach women legitimate magic instead of sorcery, and also favored the company of woman in other matters. James' eyebrows climbed at the choice of literature. He had no idea what he thought she was reading, but it certainly wasn't this. In a spur of curiosity, he opened the book. She had left her green hair ribbon as a book marker halfway through the book. He stroked the ribbon, a cool and silky coil that caught on his rough fingers in some places. He turned his attention to the poetry.

That man to me seems equal to the gods,

the man who sits opposite you

and close by listens

to your sweet voice

and your enticing laughter—

that indeed has stirred up the heart in my breast.

For whenever I look at you even briefly

I can no longer say a single thing,

but my tongue is frozen in silence;

instantly a delicate flame runs beneath my skin;

with my eyes I see nothing;

my ears make a whirring noise.

A cold sweat covers me,

trembling seizes my body,

and I am greener than grass.

Lacking but little of death do I seem.

James snapped the book shut, and after a moment of hesitation, he slipped the ribbon out of the book and into his pocket. He replaced the book back on the shelf and left the library, picking up the book that he had been reading en route. His heart was hammering inexplicably, and there was a heat to his cheeks. Despite this, James realized that it the first time he felt alive in a long while.

After dining, the Healer administered the potion, and Miss Evans seemed to make a splendid recovery. Regardless, the Healer advised that she rest in bed, and not depart until the following morning. After rejoicing at this news, Miss Lily left Miss Evans to rest and joined the party in the drawing room, where James was continuing with his book and being bothered by Miss Black, who was barely paying any attention to her own fiancé, even though Mr. Lupin was feeling a little under the weather. Miss Lily sat in a corner and picked up some sewing. Miss Black took several turns around the room, but noticed that no one was paying her much attention. Exasperated, she turned to Miss Lily Evans and said "Miss Lily, please come take a turn around the room with me. It is truly refreshing after spending so much time sitting."

Miss Lily smiled pleasantly and made no protestations, rising and joining Miss Black. Miss Black immediately had James' attention, as he unconsciously closed his book. "Why, Mr. Potter, why don't you join us? Despite your morning ride business has kept you sitting all morning."

"I wouldn't dream of it," James replied. "For there are two reasons that you would ask Miss Lily to walk with you, and I shouldn't want to interfere with either of them."

"Why, Miss Lily, can you puzzle out what he means? I am at a loss." The two women shared a look as if co-conspirators, but it was clear that they were of different minds as to the importance of this conversation. Miss Black was too invested, and Miss Lily not enough. James shifted uncomfortably.

"I daresay that I am at a loss, but the surest way of disappointing him will be not to ask him about it," Miss Lily replied, a half smile playing around her lips. Miss Black, of course, had no intention in disappointing James and asked him what he meant by such a response.

James' throat was somewhat stuck, but he managed to explain himself. "The first reason is that you are sharing secrets; the second is that you are aware that your figures appear more elegant and attractive when you are walking. If the first, I would be in your way. If the second, I can best admire you from here."

Miss Black cried out in dismay. "Whatever shall we do to punish him for such speech Miss Lily?"

"We could laugh at him," Miss Lily suggested slyly.

"But there is nothing in his character that we can laugh at. Calmness of temper and presence of mind – there is not much to amuse there."

Miss Lily met James' eyes, and he felt himself caught in the way that they danced with wit as she composed her own answer. "Mr. Potter is not to be laughed at! That is an uncommon advantage, and I hope it will continue to be uncommon, for it would be most disappointing to have such an acquaintance. I dearly love to laugh."

James was unsure how to respond, was unsure how to decipher the myriad of emotions that flickered through him. "Miss Black has given me too much credit," he said at last. "Any person, even the wisest, may be rendered ridiculous by a person whose main object in life is to make a joke."

"Of course," Miss Lily said, her eyes sparkling at his repartee. "But I hope to never be one of those people. I would never laugh at what is good or wise. Follies and ridiculousness amuse me, but you have none of these from what I can surmise."

"Well it has been a study of my life to avoid weaknesses that can expose a wizard to ridicule," James countered. He was unsure whether or not he was meeting her approval in this conversation, but it was exhilarating to be the center of her attention.

"Such as vanity and pride," Miss Lily stated. She had come to a standstill before him, her head tilted to the side as if she were trying to puzzle him out as much as he was her.

"Vanity is indeed a weakness. But where there is a superiority of mind, pride is well-called for."

Miss Lily seemed to like his answer, for she smiled broadly. James forgot for a moment what they were meant to be discussing. Miss Black interrupted them, somewhat disappointed that her endeavor to recall attention to herself had backfired to drawing attention to Miss Lily. "So you have concluded your examination of Mr. Potter? And what do you find?"

"As you yourself have stated, Miss Black, Mr. Potter is without fault. He has confessed to it himself."

"I beg to differ," James countered. "I have several faults. My temper is too quick, and I cannot forget the mistakes and vices of others, especially when they offend me. Some may call me resentful, but my good opinion, once lost, is lost forever." James felt slightly embarrassed at so openly naming some of his flaws, but he had no pretenses about himself. He knew that he had faults, and he felt he had to be honest with Miss Lily about them. Both for his sake and hers.

"Now that is surely a failure! Unfortunately it is not one that I can laugh at! You are safe from me." James was starting to think that he was not, in fact, safe from her.

"I believe that everyone has bad tendencies, but that with a good education and strong moral fiber, they can be overcome."

"And your defect is to hate everybody," she retorted, her eyes dancing, but enough force behind her statement that it could be truly what she thought. His heart felt a pang at the thought.

 _Not you_ , James thought. Instead, he smiled and replied "And yours is to purposefully misunderstand them." Lily cocked her head to the side and studied him. He wondered what she saw. Miss Black took the natural pause in conversation to once again suggest the pianoforte. James found himself both relieved and disappointed as Miss Lily's attention moved on from him. He could not wait for the moment when they left Diagon Park and he was no longer second guessing his every move. For now he contented himself with his own thoughts as Miss Lily's soft hands glided over the pianoforte. His hand slipped into his pocket, and he touched her ribbon. Yes, it was for the best that she left tomorrow.


	4. Sweet Talk

**A/N: Chapter title from the song Sweet Talk by Saint Motel. I highly recommend listening to this song because it exemplifies how James will be feeling during most of this fic. I hope you enjoy - I had a lot of fun writing this. The plot thickens! Reviews are like ice cold coffee on a sweltering hot day.**

Lily Evans was not easily intimidated. She was made of stern stuff, and felt that her character aided her greatly in overcoming almost any obstacle that came her way in social situations. She easily laughed off her own embarrassment, and would be the first to admit that she was not the prettiest face in the room. This is not to say that she was falsely modest, but that she was realistic and recognized the importance of other aspects of a person rather than their perceived attractiveness. In short, Lily Evans was an indomitable woman who was not easily cowed. That being said, she nonetheless was ready to quit Diagon Park the next morning.

It wasn't that she had been ill-treated or made to feel a burden. In that regard, Lily had to admit that she had been pleasantly surprised at the hospitality, albeit with an air of haughtiness, that the London crew had offered. She had discovered a true kinship in both Mr. Black and Mr. Lupin, though it had been modulated carefully. She had enjoyed browsing Mr. Black's library. Even her conversations with Mr. Potter and Miss Black, though not changing her opinion on them, were interesting. She just felt exhausted. Having to always be on her best behavior made her feel slightly paranoid. It was somewhat odd for Lily to try so hard at manners, but she did so for one reason and one reason only - her dearest sister Marlene Evans. If the budding romantic interest between Marlene and Mr. Black proved to have a firm foundation, she did not wish to cast any doubts on her own sister's happiness or somehow sully her name with her own atrocious manners. So she smiled, she used correct language, and spent most of her time biting her tongue and trying her best not to let her attention drift. Only time would tell if her efforts would be for naught, but for now the objective of transferring back home was desirable above all else.

It was decided that Marlene would travel back by the Floo Network so as not to succumb once more to illness, but Lily insisted on taking the walk once more, saying that she had longed the past few days for a long stroll as she was in the habit of doing so often at home. Though her stubbornness was met with some initial skepticism, in the end Lily won out. After seeing her sister safely departed, the London quartet escorted Lily to the front door and bid her farewell. They all shook her hand. Mr. Black was truly sorry to see her go and commented that he would miss her wit and liveliness. Lily was flattered, but had to admit that she would also miss Mr. Black's good sense of humor and cheeriness. Mr. Potter came last and spoke only a few terse words to her, but his handshake seemed to linger, and Lily felt queer at the feeling of their bare palms touching. She realized they had never touched before, and for some reason she felt a heat stain her cheeks. Her eyes snapped up to Mr. Potter's hazel eyes, flickering with surprise before they shuttered over into an unreadable expression. Though she had much to reflect on during her walk home, her mind kept returning to the look in his eyes when their hands met. She felt it was the first time she had a genuine encounter with the man.

Upon Lily's arrival at home, she was quickly filled in by her mother and Petunia on the latest gossip on the regiments in town. Lily had quite forgotten that there were regiments in town, for they were not a common topic of conversation at Diagon Park. This was most likely because no one there was interested in eligible and handsome young men. Lily had yet to see any of the regiments, but she found herself not much looking forward to the prospect. While a change of society was always welcome in the lull of the countryside, she felt that their company erred on the silly side of things, and she didn't much feel the urge to laugh as she had before. She was most likely just tired. As she was about to excuse herself, Mr. Evans walked into the room with a letter in his hand.

"Mrs. Evans, I hope you have a good dinner prepared today. I have reason to expect company," he said, his voice grave. The four women looked up at him curiously, sensing the seriousness about him.

"Why who could it be? It certainly isn't Mrs. Prewett for she would have called or written to myself," Mrs. Evans retorted.

"The person in question is a stranger and a gentleman," Mr. Evans stated, a mischievous twinkle returning to his eye.

"Why you mean Mr. Black! Marlene, how lovely it will be to have him for dinner. Heavens! I must get to town and get a fine cut of meat! The fish that I have surely isn't fine enough for him." Mrs. Evans made to bustle out of the room, but was impeded by Mr. Evans.

"It is not Mr. Black. In fact, it is someone I have never seen in my whole life." This got the desired reaction and all four women began exclaiming at once. "I received a letter from Mr. Frank Longbottom, who you remember will inherit when I am dead and may turn you out and do as he pleases!" Mr. Evans explained.

Immediately Mrs. Evans interjected. "Do not mention that odious man's name in this house!"

"Ah, but Mrs. Evans. You ought to read the letter he has sent me." He handed the letter to Mrs. Evans, who was obliged to read it aloud.

 _Dear Sir,_

 _The disagreement lasting between yourself and my late father always gave me much uneasiness, and since I have had the misfortune to lose him, I have always wanted to heal the rift. For some time I was kept back by my own doubts, afraid of whether or not that would be disrespecting the memory of my own father and also how you would react. But my mind was changed as I recently received a parsonage under the patronage of the esteemed lady Druella Malfoy widow of Cygnus Malfoy. As a clergyman I feel it is my duty to promote and establish a lasting peace within all families within my influence. As the division within our wizarding society are deepened by the erroneous rebel that shall not be named, it is all the more important to put disagreements behind us and present a united front. If you are not averse to the idea, I would most kindly ask your permission to visit you the Saturday a fortnight from hence. I offer my greetings to Mrs. Evans and your daughters and eagerly await your response._

 _Respectfully yours,_

 _Frank Longbottom_

No one knew what to make of the letter, but there was little they could do besides ensure that the dinner went well, and so they set about preparing the house and their spirits for the impending visit of Mr. Longbottom. Mrs. Evans' nervous chatter escalated throughout the day as everyone else's patience shortened. It was all Lily could do from bursting into one of her tirades on the idiocy that solely male inheritance produced.

Mr. Longbottom produced himself on their doorstep promptly for dinner, and though there was the expected stiltedness on new acquaintanceship, Mr. Longbottom clearly did his most to put them at ease in his own manner. He was a sturdy man of seven and twenty, dressed in the black that his profession favored. He was not displeasing to look at, but did not possess a memorable face. His eyes skittered often over the company, as if studying them carefully, and his manners were relatively sober and grave. Lily reflected privately to herself that these manners are most likely what endeared him to entering into life as a pastor.

Mr. Longbottom did not wait long to shower them with praise, complimenting Mrs. Evans on the beauty of her daughters. "I had heard that your daughters were the most beautiful in all of Cokeworth, but I must say that in this case the rumors do not quite do them justice," he stated, albeit it with little warmth, his eyes fixed on Marlene, who quickly looked down. Lily couldn't tell if it was from modesty or to hide the sardonic smile that Lily knew to be there. The compliments were not terribly pleasing to anybody but Mrs. Evans who found herself liking Mr. Longbottom despite her firm resolutions all day not to do anything but continue to find him odious.

After dinner was announced, Mr. Evans finally engaged Mr. Longbottom in conversation over a topic that he thought was relatively safe - that of Lady Druella Malfoy. Mr. Longbottom could not find enough words to express his adulation of Lady Malfoy. She was his most esteemed patroness, a noble witch of incredible status that did not make her overly haughty. He admitted that there were many who thought her a touch too self-important, but he personally had been invited by her to dine at her manor several times, and he found her to be just as proud as she ought to be with her impeccable magic bloodlines. She had not only humbled herself to visit him in his parsonage, but also approved of his modifications and hinted at the hope of Mr. Longbottom soon having a wife who could appreciate them. It was clear that no one quite knew the appropriate response to his enthusiastic praise of Lady Malfoy.

"I am sure that she is all that you say and more," Mrs. Evan stated. "It's a pity that more great ladies aren't more like her. Does she live near you?"

"The garden in which my parsonage is located is only separated by a lane to her estate, Grimmauld Park."

"Does Lady Malfoy have any children?" Mrs. Evans asked. Lily glanced at her warily, knowing that the conversation would tend towards matchmaking if the lady had any male children.

"Lady Malfoy has been blessed with only one daughter, who will inherit everything when she dies," Mr. Longbottom stated, as he cut his meat into very precise and similar sized segments.

"How fortunate for her!" Mrs Evans exclaimed. "And is she handsome?"

"She is a charming young lady, and blessed with excellent manners. Unfortunately, Miss Narcissa has a sickly constitution which has prevented her from pursuing many accomplishments, and her mother even had her discontinue the study of magic when it was clear that it was taking a toll on her. But Lady Malfoy has often made clear that had her health allowed it, Miss Narcissa would have been a formidable witch."

"Has she been presented? I do not recall ever seeing anyone of that name at court." Lily could not recall the last time she had participated in conversation quite this dull. She had spent the last few days with people who were haughty, yes, but they had redeeming qualities and for the most part did not dominate the conversation. Lily shook herself. Was she truly yearning for their company in the presence of Mr. Longbottom? That was utterly preposterous. She forced her mind to return to the matter at hand.

"Regrettably her health does not allow her to travel far and she has therefore not spent much time in town and has not been presented at court. Though I have often observed to Lady Malfoy that she has deprived the British Court of its brightest ornament. Her ladyship was very pleased with the idea and has often repeated it. I am more than happy to offer these little compliments that are so acceptable to ladies."

Lily met Mr. Evans eyes over the table and hurriedly returned to her potatoes for she didn't know if she could hold a straight face at the expression on her father's countenance. "It is happy for you that you possess the talent to flatter with such delicacy," Mr. Evans pursued, picking up his glass of wine with a studied air. "I must ask - are these pleasing attentions fruit of the moment or are they the result of previous study?"

"They often derive from what is passing at the time, but sometimes I like to amuse myself by composing such elegant little compliments, but they must always be given with as an unstudied air as possible." As if to prove his point, Mr. Longbottom studied his plate of carefully cut meat with an air of satisfaction before delicately setting down his knife and beginning to eat his meal with the dedication of a man who eats for sustenance and not out of gusto.

Mr. Evans expectations were fulfilled - his cousin was as odd as he had hoped, and he listened to him with earnest enjoyment, not having witnessed such a spectacle in a while. He maintained the most resolute composure, though he often glanced at Lily in shared, yet carefully concealed, merriment. After the dinner had been cleared away and Mr. Longbottom had given his predetermined compliments, Mr. Evans suggested that they pass the time by having Mr. Longbottom read to them. He agreed, though he objected to the novel that was initially brought forth. After much deliberation, he decided upon Fordyce's Sermons and read to them in a monotone voice that allowed Lily's mind to wander.

Was this to be their lot? To have their entire estate, living, and money passed on to this earnest and slightly ridiculous man? And all for what reasons? The delicacy of a female constitution? Lily chafed at the idea. But she knew there was little to be done. Though it would scandalize her family if they knew her plans, she was all the more determined to embark on her path towards becoming a Healer. Once her sisters' futures were secured and the question of their marriages settled, she would proceed with her path. She did not want to hurt their opportunities in finding good matches and being comfortably taken care of, but she would rather work for her money. The evening passed and Lily was relieved to beg an early evening from the exhaustion of her move from Diagon Park that day and beat a hasty retreat to her chamber and her own thoughts.

Mr. Longbottom was a man of contradictions. Though he had studied extensively, his manner was reserved, stiltedly formal, and insipid. The humility of his office counteracted the pride that very position instilled in him, leading to a most strange existence in social circles. Mr. Longbottom had set for Cokeworth with the intention of finding a wife, for he now had a good house and an adequate income to provide for her, as well as the blessing of Lady Malfoy, who directed his life in more ways than one. He had hoped to secure the hand of one of the Evans girls, for it would be most convenient for both parties and ease many tensions that still lingered between the two families. His evening with the Evans family pleased him immensely, and from the first his intentions rested on Marlene, for she was the oldest, and therefore made the most sense for Mr. Longbottom when it came to inheriting the estate. The fact that she was also the loveliest of the three only strengthened his intentions to do right by his family.

The following morning, he brought the matter to the attention of Mrs. Evans, who was most pleased at his agreeable manner. She found it incumbent upon herself to hint that she believed that Miss Evans was soon to be engaged, but alluded to the fact that her other daughters were without obstacle. Without a fuss, Mr. Longbottom transferred his intentions to the second daughter, Miss Lily Evans. He had no qualms about her, for she had an intelligence about her, and though her allure was not the classic beauty found in Marlene, she had a different sort of charm - the beauty that one noticed immediately due to it being striking - from her coloring and her manner, she stood out, and was therefore beautiful. Mrs. Evans treasured the hint that Mr. Longbottom would pursue one of her daughters, and the thought of two of her daughters married contented her so much that the man of whom she could not speak of the day before was now high in her good graces.

Petunia intended to walk into town that day, and both of her sisters were eager to escape the house and the prospect of some entertainment in town. Mr. Evans bid Mr. Longbottom to join them so that he could have a few hours of peace, for Mr. Longbottom loved the sound of his own voice. He joined them gladly, and the party set off to town, attending to Mr. Longbottom's inane chatter and giving the required encouraging responses when necessary. Once they arrived in town, however, the attention was drawn from Mr. Longbottom. The prospect of officers was much more interesting, and even the most studied of compliments could not distract the girls' attention from them.

Their attentions were soon rewarded for they had the pleasure of encountering a fine young man with a gentlemanlike countenance and genteel manners, introduced to them by Mr. Cattermole. The young man's name was Mr. Severus Snape, and he had just joined the regiments the day before. This delighted the girls all the more, for a handsome young man is completed by his participation in the army and the colorful array of buckles and ribbons that entailed. After their introduction, Mr. Snape drew them into conversation so engaging that they barely noticed how much time had passed. They were drawn from their conversation only by the arrival of Mr. Black and Mr. Potter on horseback. They joined the conversation, the principal characters being Mr. Black and Miss Evans, who felt it had been too long since they had seen one another. Mr. Black stated that they had been on their way to Spinner's End now to pay them a visit. Mr. Potter agreed with a bow, and was beginning to determine to not fix eyes on Miss Lily Evans when they were suddenly arrested by the sight of Mr. Snape. Lily, quite by chance, observed Mr. Potter's face as they saw one another, and was astonished to see that both changed color - one paled, and the other went red. After a few moments Mr. Snape touched his hat, and Mr. Potter returned the gesture - stiffly - and turned his horse the other direction, plodding off. Lily was puzzled. It was impossible to know what the meaning of what had occurred was, but it was equally impossible not to long to know. Mr. Black left shortly after Mr. Potter, not realizing what had happened.

Upon their own exclamations at the lateness of the hour, Mr. Snape asked if he could have the pleasure of accompanying them part of the way home. They all agreed readily, and during their walk back, Lily and Mr. Snape ended up trailing the group and conversing easily. Lily was burning with the desire to ask about his encounter with Mr. Potter, but was unsure as to how to bring up the subject. Luckily, Mr. Snape did it for her, enquiring how long Mr. Potter had been settled in Diagon Park.

"About a month," Lily responded, but was unable to move on to the next subject, and felt obliged to add something in a similar vein. "He is a man of very large property in Godric's Hollow, I have heard."

"Indeed," Snape replied. "His estate is quite noble. It is clearly ten thousand annually, and you could not get your information from a more reliable source, for I have been connected with the Potter family from my infancy."

Lily was astounded, and she could not hide her emotions quickly enough, for Mr. Snape smiled wryly at the expression that crossed her face. "Yes, Miss Evans. You are no doubt surprised by the statement given how coldly we greeted each other earlier. Forgive my impertinence in asking, but are you much acquainted with Mr. Potter?"

"As much as I could ever want to be. I spent four days in the same house as him and find him to be a most disagreeable man." Lily thought back to the dance and his haughtiness at refusing to dance with her. But it was more than that particular slight, she knew so.

"I have no right to give my own opinion for I have known him too long to be impartial when it comes to him. I am surprised, however, at how confidently you speak your opinion. Mr. Potter is generally well-liked."

"Well, most of Cokeworth thinks him too proud. He is not seen too favorably here." Lily could say that with certainty, for she had heard several people besides her mother mention Mr. Potter in low and alarmed tones.

"I cannot pretend to be sorry. I wonder if he is to remain in the country much longer."

"I cannot say that I know - I have not heard anything regarding his plans in the countryside. But I do hope that your plans will not be affected by his presence." She sincerely hoped that he would not leave Cokeworth because of the presence of Mr. Potter. His company was most pleasing to Lily, and she found he was the distraction that she had been looking for. Her normal company was not nearly as interesting as the colorful Mr. Snape.

"Oh, it is not for me to be driven away," Mr. Snape replied, somewhat forcefully. "If he wishes to avoid seeing me, he must go. We are not on good terms, and though it pains me to see him, I have no reason to avoid him. Oh, had you known his father, Miss Lily. He was the best man that ever breathed, and the truest friend I ever had. That is what pains me so in being in the presence of Mr. Potter. His manner towards me has been scandalous, but what hurts me the most is the way in which he dishonors his father's memory." There was a faraway look in Snape's eyes, and Lily knew he must be recollecting the late Mr. Potter.

Lily felt her curiosity grow even stronger. Mustering up her courage, she asked Mr. Snape. "Forgive me, but what is the nature of how Mr. Potter has disgraced himself? I have heard nothing of it here."

Mr. Snape stopped walking for a moment, his eyes flicking to her, studying her. He seemed to come to a decision and continued walking, his hands clasped behind his back. "A military life is not what I had intended to do with my life, Miss Lily. Like your Mr. Longbottom, I was also to have a profession within the church. The late Mr. Potter left me the next post in the best parsonage in his living. His kindness was insurmountable. He meant to provide for me, but when that pastor died, the parsonage was given to someone else."

"Merlin! How could that be? How could his will be ignored? Why did you not seek legal counsel? Lily could not hide her astonishment, or the burst of anger that unfurled in the pit of her stomach.

"There was informality in the terms of the will which meant that the law would not aid me. A man of honor could not have doubted the late Mr. Potter's intention, but Mr. Potter chose to doubt it - or to treat it as a recommendation. He claimed that I had forfeited my claim by extravagance and imprudence, or any excuse that he could fall back on. Certain it is that the living became vacant two years ago, and certain it is that I was of an age to hold it, and that it was given to another man. And it is no less certain that I cannot accuse myself of having done anything to deserve to lose it. I have a warm and unguarded disposition, and I may have perhaps spoke my opinion of him too freely. I can recall nothing worse. But it remains that we are very different as men and he hates me."

"This is shocking! He deserves to be publicly exposed!" Now that Lily was past her initial shock, she had to say she saw nothing in Mr. Potter's character that contradicted what Snape was saying.

"Some time or other he will be exposed - but it won't be by me. I could never betray his father, for his memory is stronger to me than any hurt his son may have caused to me." Lily felt that this utterance only proved how gallant he was, and found him all the more handsome for those feelings.

"But what could his motive have been?" Lily asked after a moment of silence. For that was the only thing that was unaccounted for in the story, and she still could not grasp the utter cruelty that Mr. Potter had exhibited.

"A determined dislike of me," Mr. Snape responded. "I cannot but imagine that his dislike stems from jealousy. Had the late Mr. Potter loved me less, Mr. Potter may have liked me more. I believe that his father's attachment to me irritated him throughout life. His temperament does not do well under the threat of competition, and his father often showed preference to me."

Lily remained incredulous. At last Mr. Potter's character flaws had been revealed. She couldn't help but remember when he had recounted his own faults to her not four days ago at Diagon Park. He had never mentioned jealousy, but perhaps it was intertwined within his pride, which he readily owned to. "I had not thought Mr. Potter so bad as this. I never liked him, but I thought that he just despised everyone in general. This act of revenge and maliciousness however, I did not expect from him."

"I cannot trust myself on the subject. I can hardly be just to him," Snape replied in clipped tones.

"How strange! I wonder that the very pride of this Mr. Potter has not made him just to you! For this pride should have made him too proud to be dishonest, for dishonesty I must call it."

"Almost all of his actions may be traced to pride and pride has often been his closest friend. It has connected him nearer with virtue than any other feeling. But none of us are consistent, and in his behavior to me there were some stronger impulses even than pride," replied Snape.

"Can such abominable pride as his have ever done him good?"

"Yes. It has often led him to be liberal and generous, to give his money freely, to display hospitality, to assist his tenants, and relieve the poor. Family pride and filial pride, for he is very proud of what his father was, have done this. Not to appear to disgrace his family, to degenerate from popular qualities, or lose that influence of the Godric House is a powerful motive. He also has brotherly pride, which with some brotherly affection makes him a very kind and careful guardian of his sister. You will generally hear him cried up as the most attentive and best of brothers."

Lily had to admit that since she had heard of Mr. Potter's sister, she had remained somewhat at odds with the image of Potter as a brother. He seemed so reserved she couldn't really picture him within a family, and so she was all the more curious about this sister. "What's sort of girl is Miss Potter?"

"I wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to speak ill of a Potter. But she is too much like her brother, very very proud. As a child she was affectionate and pleasing and extremely fond of me. But she is nothing to me now. She is a handsome girl about fifteen or sixteen, and I understand highly accomplished. Since her father's death her home has been London, where a lady lives with her, and oversees her education."

"I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. Black. How can he seems good right itself, and is truly amiable, be in friendship for such a man? How can they suit each other? Do you know Mr. Black?"

"Not at all." His tone expressed that he was not interested in getting to know him either, for there was a first undertone of dislike in his reply.

"He is a sweet tempered, amiable, charming man. He cannot know what Mr. Potter is." Of this Lily was convinced. Mr. Black would never have formed an attachment to Mr. Potter had he known any of this. Perhaps he was more like Marlene than he thought - he may only see the best in anyone, and never see the faults in their character. Still, Black didn't seem stupid or easily duped. Mr. Potter must have been very persuasive.

"Probably not. Mr. Potter can please where he chooses. He does not want the abilities. He can be a pleasant companion if he thinks it is worth his while. Among those who are all his equals in consequence, he is a very different man from what he is less prosperous. His pride never deserts him. But with the rich he is liberal-minded, just, sincere, rational, honorable, and perhaps agreeable, allowing something for fortune and figure."

Changing the subject, Mr. Snape enquired after the parsonage that Mr. Longbottom was installed at. "Mr. Longbottom received his living from Lady Malfoy. I do not know how they were introduced, but they have not known each other long. He has taken up the position quite recently."

"You know, or course, that Lady Malfoy and Mrs. Euphemia Potter were sisters. Lady Malfoy is the gentleman's aunt."

"I had not known that. I had never heard of her before the arrival of Mr. Longbottom. But do not fear, since his arrival I have heard of little else." Lily did say that despite all of the terrible things she had just heard, the thought of Mr. Longbottom had a smile playing about her lips.

"Her daughter, Miss Narcissa Malfoy, is heiress to a very large fortune and estate, and it is thought that the cousins will marry and unite their lands and their money."

"Mr. Longbottom speaks highly of Lady Malfoy, but I believe that it stems mostly from gratitude of his position. From what I can surmise, she sees to be just as prideful as her nephew."

Mr. Snape grimaced. "I have not seen her in many years, but from what I remember you are most certainly correct. She is excessively authoritative and insolent. She believe herself to be clever and accomplished because of her rank and enforces her opinions on anyone who interacts with her." Lily was not surprised that such a person would be related to Mr. Potter, and prayed that she would never have the misfortune to cross her path. She took her leave of him as they were approaching her home, but found that her head was still full of him long after he was gone.

That night, she related a shortened version of the information she had heard to Marlene. She listened with concern and astonishment. She did not know how Mr. Potter could be so unworthy of Mr. Black's friendship, for he was the most charming and gentle young man. Yet it was not in her nature to question the veracity of a young man with such an amiable appearance as Mr. Snape. The possibility of him having endured such unkindness and hardship was enough to engage her tender heart. For Marlene, then, nothing remained but to defend the conduct of each, and throw into the account of accident or mistake, whatever could not be explained.

Lily could not help but laugh at her sisters' stubborn need to believe the best in everyone. "Laugh all you like Lily, but you will not laugh me out of my opinion. My dearest Lily, do consider in what a disgraceful light it places Mr. Potter, to be treating his father's favorite in such a manner, someone his father had promised to provide for. It is impossible. No man of common humanity, no man who had any value for character could be capable of it. Can his most intimate friends be so deceived? I should think not."

"I can much more easily believe in Mr. Black's being imposed on, than that Mr. Snape should invent such a history himself as he gave. Facts, dates, everything he mentioned without ceremony. If it be not so, let Mr. Potter contradict it. Besides, there was truth in his looks."

"It is most distressing. One does not know what to think."

"I beg your pardon; one knows exactly what to think," Lily retorted, torn between frustration and amusement at her sister's adamant belief in the best of everyone. Marlene shrugged, and turned to blow out the candle by their bed. Marlene fell asleep quickly, but Lily's mind kept racing, keeping her long from the comfort of sleep. Her thoughts were all a tangle, but she hoped that in the morning with the brightness of the new day, she would be able to solve the conundrum.

* * *

James was shaking. He registered the fact blankly, as he paced the library at Diagon Park, the only place he knew no one would disturb him. Well, perhaps Lupin, but he had gone out on an evening stroll with Miss Black. James needed to be away from prying eyes and put his own chaotic emotions back into order; he hoped that he hadn't seemed to out of sorts this afternoon. He had been snippy with Black, but hopefully he put down to a bad mood and not to the bizarre encounter he'd had to day with Severus Snape. He stopped by the fireplace, placing his hand over the mantel and leaning against it, his posture slumped as he gazed into the crackling flames.

Snape's face beside that of Miss Lily Evans sat before him in his mind, and his chest burned. How had they met one another? What was Snape doing here? What kind of lies was he telling her? He felt incredibly helpless, which only made him all the more angry. Every time he saw Snape, bad news quickly followed. He wished that Snape would stop appearing in his life, especially as he was just getting comfortable with it. He wondered whether Snape had followed him here, or whether it had just been fate. He had to have followed him here. Was he to have no peace in his life?

His rage had not subsided, but it had become less blinding and morphed into a

pragmatic anger that was simmering in the back of his mind as he considered his next steps carefully. His thoughts turned to Lupin. Should he tell him that Snape was here? He was bound to discover it eventually. He took a few deep breaths and squared his shoulders. He would have to tell Lupin. Perhaps Lupin would quit the countryside and James would most likely follow. It was for the best that he leave, especially since his feelings were leading him to wish to stay. But he would not think of that now. First he had to break news to an old friend and to collect his own composure. But even with these steps decided upon, the pit of dread in his stomach remained, and James feared that sleep would not come easily that night.


	5. Candlelight

**A/N: Sorry for the wait – my parents came to visit and I had to entertain them. The chapter is titled Candlelight after a song by Reliant K – another view into James' head is encapsulated in this son. Reviews are like a glass of wine after a long day.**

Lupin was stone silent. He accepted his fate with a tired resignation that carved his face into marble and that left James' heart as heavy as a stone. He would do anything to keep Lupin safe, to help Lupin with his problems, but unfortunately there were some things that Lupin could only face on his own. "I'm sorry," James added once more, but it was clear that James had little to apologize for and the words provided little comfort to Lupin. James felt an unfathomable anger rise up the back of his throat seeing him so resigned – so unfairly set upon by society.

"When's the ball?" Lupin asked, his voice weary. He leaned against the fireplace with a slump that brought down James' spirits.

"I don't really think this is the time to think about the ball, Lupin."

Lupin made a derisive noise. "I'm not asking because I want to go, I am asking because if it's soon I can stay for it and leave afterwards. I don't want to arouse too much suspicion."

"Oh. Quite right. It's in two days." James felt a little foolish at the notion of Lupin changing tact so quickly and seemingly effortlessly while James still shivered with an array of emotions that he did not dare name.

"Well then, I shall remain through the ball and then I shall depart." James considered it. It made the most sense, was efficient and brought little suspicion to mind.

"Remus, I'm sure we shall follow closely behind."

"There's no need. You stay here. Sirius too since he's got his eye on that Evans girl." James' shoulders tensed slightly at the mention of the Evans' family. Anything that connected back to her made him on edge – most likely due to her recent acquaintance.

"Time will tell if this is just one of his regular dalliances. If it proves to be more I think we may be following shortly. I am not sure whether Miss Evans actually has feelings for him, and her mother has made it very clear that she desires advantageous marriages for her daughters. I won't let Sirius marry someone who doesn't love him back." James hadn't realized it until he uttered the words, but he knew that soon he would have to make some sort of decision on whether or not to advise Sirius to continue down this path.

Lupin tented his fingers, tapping them against his chin as he considered the issue before them. "You're right. Not even a rascal as Sirius deserves that. Well, we will observe them together at the ball and decide then. If it seems genuine, he will remain. If not, we shall all depart together. That would certainly look more organized and cause less suspicion."

"We are agreed then," James said, relieved. His anger had somewhat abated, but remained at the back of his mind. The utter unfairness of it all – and over something that Lupin could never change. But his pragmatic side won out momentarily. He had an objective: ascertain the feelings of a one Marlene Evans. All else was unimportant. Especially her sister, no matter how alluring.

* * *

Mr. Black's ball was one of the most highly anticipated social events of the year. All of the Cokesworth gentry were exalted at the prospect of spending time with such high gentry, and many young and naïve females were overjoyed at the thought of a night with the regiments. The Evans household was not spared from the mania that gripped the wizarding families of the area. Petunia was in an uproar over the regiments, and Mrs. Evans did nothing to dissuade her, far too busy worrying over what Marlene was to wear. This was to be her night, hers and Black's. Mrs. Evans was convinced that after this night Black would be family in everything but name. No one had the slightest idea why she should think so, and they didn't inquire either. Lily did her best to stay out of her way. The thought of seeing the intriguing Mr. Snape again crossed her mind one time too many, and she felt her belly to be all in a tangle. _Remember_ , she reminded herself. _You are going to be a Healer. Love is not your ending_. She did have to say that she was curious to see Mr. Potter after all of the startling revelations that had so recently been relayed to her.

The Evans family rode the carriage to the ball, hoping to make more of an entrance. Lily stared out the window as they rattled closer, wishing her mother hadn't prohibited her from walking there, or even taking the Floo. She hated the trappings of wizarding life at times – the need to resort to things such as thestrals or hippogriffs to show superior status when she would much rather take the route of convenience. Mr. Longbottom was being jounced along across from her. Lily had been surprised that he had accepted the invitation as she thought he was a touch too serious for dancing. At her question to that effect earlier that day, Mr. Longbottom had simply asked her for her first two dances. Taken aback, she had said yes, though she had mentally saved the first two for Mr. Snape. She pushed the thought aside. She would grit her teeth and do her duty for the sake of familial relations and wash her hands of him for the evening.

The sky was clear, and as Lily exited the carriage, she tilted her head back to find the North Star. She felt a thrill hum through her. A ball, at last. Nothing could spoil the evening for her – Mr. Longbottom or no. She entered, and though she had spent a considerable amount of time at Diagon Park before, she was still stunned at the beauty that surrounded her. The hall had been enchanted to look like a garden, vines intertwining themselves through the staircase railings and the balconies, hanging down into the ballroom. The ceiling was enchanted as well, reflecting the constellations from the out of doors, and enhancing it so that there were occasional shooting stars to be seen. Even Lily, who normally always had something to say, found it hard to find words at that moment.

Mr. Longbottom quickly claimed her hand for the first dance, and it was within this first half hour that Lily had an inkling what the evening had in store. Though Mr. Longbottom certainly thought himself a dignified dancer, he was indeed quite far from it. He too often forgot the steps, his movements wooden and not at all graceful. He continued attempting to draw her into conversation, but Lily only ever answered tersely, realizing with horror that it was possible that Mr. Longbottom was courting her, for he was paying her a special attention he never did her sisters. Lily did her utmost to be curt with him and to encourage him no further, hoping that he would understand his suit was not wanted and they could both part friends.

After the horrendous half hour she had passed with Mr. Longbottom, Lily had one purpose in mind – to find Mr. Snape, and to spend the evening agreeably engaged with him. Unfortunately, she was almost immediately drawn into conversation with the London quartet. "Your friend, Miss Prewett, is a most amusing young woman," Mr. Black said pleasantly enough, the glow from the last dance not having left him quite yet.

"Oh, yes. I adore her," Lily replied, glad to see that Mr. Black was kind enough to give Miss Prewett some attention, and even more pleased that he was a good judge of character.

Mrs. Evans broke into their camaraderie. "It is a pity she is not more handsome." It was clear that Mr. Black was not expecting such a rude remark in polite society, for his mouth dropped open incredulously. Lily herself felt a flush of shame stain her cheeks.

"Mama!" Lily protested, her tone pleading.

"Oh, but Lily will never admit that she's plain, even though Miss Prewett herself will say that her mother forced every beauty potion upon her imaginable," Mrs. Evans laughed, and moved in for the kill. "Of course, it is my dear Marlene who is considered the beauty of the county."

A look of terror and embarrassment crossed Marlene's face, yet she still managed to look lovely. "No, Mama. Mama, please," she murmured, as the faces of Mr. Black and Mr. Potter artfully arranged themselves into polite masks. It was clear that Mrs. Evans had crossed a line, and Lily wanted to sink into the floor.

Mrs. Evans continued as if she had not heard Lily or Marlene. "When she was fifteen there was a man so much in love with her that I was sure he would make her an offer. However, he did write her some very pretty verses."

Lily saw her chance, and jumped in, interrupting her mother. "And naturally, that ended it. I wonder who first discovered the power of poetry in banishing love."

"I thought that poetry was the food of love. More powerful than Amortentia is what I've been led to believe." Lily was surprised to find herself debating love with the person whom she least expected to feel that emotion – Mr. Potter. And to make things worse, he seemed earnest, his hazel eyes meeting hers directly, and speaking in a soft tone of sincerity, and not one that bid a challenge. Regardless, Lily found a course of adrenaline rushing through her at the thought of eviscerating Mr. Potter through the power of her own wit.

"Of a fine stout love, it may. But if is only a vague inclination, I'm convinced one more sonnet will kill it quicker than any Unforgivable Curse." Lily answered, forgetting that she was in polite company. Mrs. Evans gasped, and Miss Black lifted one eyebrow coolly, but Mr. Potter forged ahead without batting an eyelid.

"So what do you recommend to encourage affection?" The question hung in the air for one second, and Lily savored the taste of victory, so sweet, and so easily handed to her by this wizard who throughout his whole life had never been challenged once.

"I would recommend dancing," she replied with a vindictive smile, "even if one's partner is barely tolerable."

Mr. Potter flushed at that, clearly just coming to the realization that he had been discovered. But Lily was not about to wait for his response. With one last triumphant look, she curtsied and excused herself from his presence, basking in the knowledge that she had bested Mr. Potter. In the end she had the last word.

Her triumph was not to last long however, for Marlene and Alice came up to her not fifteen minutes later, with information that Mr. Snape had been called out of town, but that had there not been the presence of a certain gentleman he would have made a greater effort to make it back in time for the dance. This only solidified Lily's resentment towards said gentleman. Marlene also brought other news – she had asked Mr. Black about Mr. Snape in passing, hoping to see what kind of reaction he may have. Mr. Black had claimed that Mr. Potter had settled his business with Mr. Snape honestly but had been used badly by him and though he was not sure about the particulars, he had stated unequivocally that Mr. Snape was a bad sort of man and it was best not to get mixed up with him. .

Lily was still deadest in her opinion, but as she turned to leave the conversation ran into the very gentleman they had been discussing. Lily stepped back, apologizing. She had not realized quite how tall Mr. Potter was – she had to tilt her head back this close to him to make out his eyes. "Would you do me the honor of this dance, Miss Lily?" he asked, so quietly that Lily almost believed that she had misheard him.

She bowed her head. "You may." Immediately after she spoke those words, she wished she could take them back. She had vowed to hate the man, not dance with him. This dance was to be Mr. Snape's, but this so-called gentleman had not only deprived her of it, but had the nerve to ask her for it! But she had been so caught off guard by his request she had said yes out of the habit of all polite young women. So it appeared that all of her dances that evening were set to rob her of the joys that she had so hoped to derive from them.

Mr. Potter took her hand in his, and Lily shivered. She was not oblivious to the stares and whispers that followed them on their way to the dancefloor – for Mr. Potter scarcely danced. As the music began, Lily wondered to herself why, for Mr. Potter was an excellent dancer. She was somewhat surprised, but she reminded herself that her last partner was Mr. Longbottom, and after him even a hippogriff would be an excellent dancer. They remained silent for the first few minutes, Lily acclimatizing herself to being in his presence.

Lily having had enough of the silence, made a remark about the dance. Mr. Potter answered pleasantly enough, but did not further engage in conversation. Lily reflected on what her next steps were to be. She toyed with the idea of staying silent with him for half an hour, but she came to the conclusion that it would be more painful for Mr. Potter if he were required to speak, and so she forged bravely ahead.

"I spoke of the dance, Mr. Potter. You ought to make some sort of remark about the number of dancers or the weather."

Mr. Potter took it in good stride, quickly replying "I would be most happy to. Please advise me on what you would most like to hear."

"For now that reply will do."

"Do you speak as a rule while dancing?" Mr. Potter asked, genuine curiosity in his manner.

"No, I prefer to remain taciturn and silent," Lily quipped.

A flash of humor lit Mr. Potter's hazel eyes, but was gone so quickly she was unsure whether it had ever been there. "You are referring to me, I suppose." Lily did not reply, and they fell back into silence while they separated and came back together. To Lily's surprise, Mr. Potter broke the silence. "Tell me, Miss Lily, do you and your sisters often walk to Cokesworth?"

Seeing her opportunity, Lily said "Indeed. In fact, when you came upon us the other day we had just had the pleasure of forming a new acquaintance." The effect was both dramatic and immediate – the color draining from his face and his shoulders becoming incredibly tense.

When Mr. Potter spoke, he did so with grave civility and restraint, his voice so deep that Lily felt its vibrations through their joined hands. "Mr. Snape is blessed with such happy manners that he is sure to make friends. Whether he is able to keep friends is less certain."

"He has been so unlucky to lose your friendship," Lily said, her heart pounding. "Is that a permanent event?"

"I daresay so," Mr. Potter replied curtly.

"I once remember you saying, Mr. Potter, that you hardly ever forgave, and that once you had a bad opinion of someone, it remained with you. I hope you are most cautious when these opinions are being created."

"I am," he said, without hesitation.

"And you never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?"

"May I ask why you ask?" Mr. Potter's jaw was ticking in the candlelight, the flames reflecting in his spectacles.

"I am trying to make out your character, Mr. Potter. I hear such different stories that puzzle me exceedingly."

"I could readily believe, Miss Lily, that reports may vary greatly regarding myself, and I only hope that you would not sketch my character at the present moment as I have reason to believe that it would not reflect well on either of us."

"But if I do not take you likeness now, I may never have the chance to do so again."

Mr. Potter bowed his head in acknowledgement. "I would not by any means suspend your pleasure," he said softly. The music faded and they parted ways, both dissatisfied, though not to an equal degree, for in Mr. Potter's breast there was a powerful feeling towards her which did not allow him to remain in bad humor towards her for long.

* * *

The entire evening was a success and would be talked of for the months to come as one of the most spectacular evenings that Cokesworth had seen in a long time. Sirius insisted on exclaiming on every part of the evening, and James found his patience growing thin. This evening had not at all gone as he had planned, having quarreled with Miss Lily. The mere thought brought a knot to his stomach and a pounding in his chest. For a moment as they had been dancing, the room had fallen away and it had just been the two of them, her skin glowing in the candlelight, her soft smile only for him. It was everything he wanted – to stand with her and the rest of the world be damned. James shook himself. He would not let himself go down this path. He had to tame the affection that bloomed for her in his heart. He left Sirius with his sister, both of them discussing particulars of the dance, shooting a meaningful look Remus' way, which he luckily interpreted correctly.

They met in the library, the door creaking shut. The room was unnaturally quiet, the crackling of the fire soothing some of James' frayed nerves. Remus took the chair near the fire, and spent a few moments gazing into the flames. James had to push Lily from his mind for there were more important matters to attend – one of them sitting before him. The less time that Remus spent around Snape, the better it would be for all of them. Remus finally broke the silence. "What do you think? Should we all depart."

James exhaled loudly. "In all honesty I observed Sirius and Miss Evans almost all evening and found that she is not quite forthcoming."

Remus nodded, choosing his words carefully. "It seems to me that he is more invested in her than she in him."

"Not to mention the fact that her mother has made it perfectly clear how advantageous the match would be for their family."

Remus smiled slightly at the mention of their mother, who could not have made her wedding plans any louder. "Quite. Her family is in need of that."

"I don't want to see Sirius used and ending up in an unhappy marriage," James said, resolve straightening his spine.

Remus shook his head. "Neither of us do," he said. "Sirius is not made for an unhappy marriage. There are some people that flourish in unhappy marriages. Sirius is not one of them."

"Then it is decided. We shall quit Diagon Park presently and put Cokesworth behind us." James said the words determinedly. Distance and time would remove her from his mind. OF that he was sure. His attraction was based solely on their frequency together. Once that ceased, so would his torment.

They lapsed back into silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts. James was just deliberating whether he should pick up a book or should head for bed when Remus interrupted his internal monologue. "You danced with Miss Lily today." His tone was observational and neutral, but James still felt his breath hitch.

"Yes," he said.

"Are you sure that you wish to leave Diagon Park so soon? You could remain. She's a very witty woman and makes for an interesting companion."

James shot Remus a look. "No, thank you. I will be coming to town with you all. I am happy to put the country behind me."

Remus made a noncommittal sound and bid him goodnight, leaving him by himself in front of the fire. James sighed, his hand returning to his pocket and to the green hair ribbon within of its own will. Happy to put the country behind him indeed.


End file.
